Gordian Knots
by Mordreds Girl
Summary: Objectively she is a weakness. NOW A SERIES! *wooo*


Peter watches her embrace Jackson and _seethes_. His wolf snarls that Lydia Martin is his, and the human willingly agrees.

He isn't thinking about how Jackson will make the pack stronger, strength they'll need to face the Alpha pack. He's thinking about the best way to punish the pup, this _boy_ who thinks he can take Peter's place, and who has his hands all over her. But anything he would do would probably kill the boy sooner than he would like.

By the time they finally break apart the metal between his hands is a ruinous mess. Negligently he tosses it aside and disappears outside, and begins waiting in the shadows for her to leave.

He follows as Stiles takes her home. The run calms him, lets him organize his thoughts.

Objectively she is a weakness. His scent is all over her, almost overwhelming her own. He should spare them both the future of the Alphas finding her and kill her himself. It would break his heart, but at least he would be safe.

But the wolf barks and rages at the idea and Peter knows he would never be able to follow through.

While she and Stiles have a conversation in his car Peter climbs up to her room. There's a small part of him that's surprised that the wolf isn't threatened by Stiles. But then he always remembers that while the boy might have a crush on her, Stiles will more than likely soon be attached to his poor, perpetually constipated looking nephew. And oh, how he'll laugh.

He takes off his shoes and jacket and climbs into her bed, greedily inhaling her cinnamon and vanilla scent that lingers there. A minute or so later he hears the front door open as she enters. She sheds her shoes and jacket and quietly begins making her way up the stairs. For a moment she pauses in front of her mother's door, but does nothing; as if to see if the elder woman is truly asleep, Peter already knows she is. Then Lydia continues on. She opens her bedroom door and flicks on the light.

Leaping from her bed his hand muffles her scream barely a moment after it forms. Her wild eyes stare at him and though she struggles a little he keeps his hand on her mouth until she calms down.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" She hisses the moment his hand leaves.

The smile he gives her is more than a little condescending, "so good to see you too Lydia."

With a wolf-worthy snarl she pushes past him into her room. He shuts the door and turns around. The sound of her jewelry clattering onto her vanity as she takes it off seems far too loud in the silence between them. He goes back to her bed, sits down again, and watches her prepare for bed.

Even if it's unwilling on her part he loves this intimacy between them.

When she turns around she fakes surprise. "Oh, you're still here." Disappointment practically _oozes_ from her voice.

He gives her a toothy grin. "Yes dear, I am still here, and I hope to be here for quite some time."

"Yes well _I_ hope you'll leave before I call the sheriff about the _much_ older man watching me undress."

His grin turns to a leer. "It's nothing I haven't already seen before sweetheart."

She flushes at that, and the red makes what few freckles she has stand out, though the flush isn't only embarrassment. Apparently anger is the emotional path she chooses. "Get out Peter!"

He stands and stakes a step forward. "And if I say 'make me'?"

Her hand scrambles around her vanity and snatches up a letter opener. "I'm not ignorant and helpless anymore."

He raises an eyebrow, "oooh. I'm shaking in my socks."

Her eyes flash in anger, she takes her own step forward, and slashes out with her makeshift weapon. He lets her because it will make her feel better. She manages to catch his cheek, and he can feel a small dribble of blood. "While it's quite effective I do hope you'll choose a better weapon when you face down the next hoard of monsters."

She draws herself up to her full height. "What makes you think I'm going to stay in this world?"

The cut is already healing and his tongue darts out to catch the dribble of blood. "The fact that you seem quite intent on staying with your newly whelped boyfriend speaks strongly of you staying my dear."

Lydia stiffens and glares. "Thank you for reminding me you tried to kill Jackson."

He _moves_ and her start of surprise when he appears right in front of her gives him only a little satisfaction. "He was still the Kanima then. I highly doubt, no matter how much Derek would wish it so, that a few claws would have been what finally did him in."

She shoves at his chest. "Go away."

Peter moves closer, caging her in. One of his hands moves up to wind her hair around it. He tugs, but she doesn't go with it, refusing to bare her neck. "Go away."

"Make me."

She took another swing at him, but this time he caught her wrist before she could hit him. "Not good enough," he hisses.

The strength of her scent changes, gaining that extra layer that means 'rage'. He watches as she tries to hold in a scream, biting her bottom lip so hard that it starts to bleed. He leans down to lap up the blood before it can drip onto her clothes, "very good Lydia."

His lips cover hers and he swallows the scream she finally lets loose.

When he breaks away he is surprised to note she looks more in control that she did before. Then again, her control is part of her attraction. He leans in close again. "No one knows do they?"

He can't see her expression, but he feels her body give a start. "Knows what?"

A slow smile spreads across his mouth. "How angry you are. Even now all you know is because of me. They keep you ignorant, weak. So in the dark and wanting to find the light." He leans closer to whisper in her ear. "Maybe next time your mother is out I'll come over and you can direct all that wonderful, delicious anger at me. What do you say Lydia? Our little secret?"

She shudders against him. "What happens if I say yes?"

He gives a soft chuckle. "Whatever you want Lydia. Someone to teach you to fight, to plot and plan, educate you about our world? Someone to fuck senseless, to do whatever you want with? A sympathetic shoulder? Someone who knows where to hide the bodies?" Poor Jackson has no idea what he's gotten himself into. "I'll be whatever you want my dear."


End file.
